"You are a mystery, my dear," Lucy McNeil said, and her daughter Grady smiled indulgently. "Why, I guess I am a little perverse," she replied.

"Well I will worry about you," her mother continued. "Seventeen is very young to stay on your own in New York. But I shall bring you back the finest ball gown for your society debut."

"I can't think why Grady doesn't want to go to Europe with you," snapped Apple who, being eight years the older, was by far the more sensible of the McNeil sisters.

But Grady could not tell the truth. Be proud, she said to herself, and fly your pennant high above and in the wind.

A voice echoed in the hall. "Hello McNeil." It could only be Grady's friend, Peter Bell, and the pair giggled and sipped champagne as her parents prepared to depart. Lucy looked on kindly as Peter was from a well-to-do family.

"I wish that you could love me as I love you," Peter sighed. Poor Peter, Grady thought. How little he knows me. Perhaps one day I can tell him.

Grady strolled to the Broadway parking lot. She looked down at the young man. "Light me a cigarette," he growled.

Clyde Manzer was not the first lover she had ever known, but he was the first with whom she had been truly smitten. When they kissed, she could sense a raw, mumbling power.

"I love you," Grady mewed. Clyde said nothing. Since the war had ended, his life had been a disappointment. Was working in a parking lot the best he could expect? He knew the affair with Grady McNeil was going nowhere. He was down-at-heel and had friends called Mink and Gump. Worst of all, he was Jewish.

Clyde buttoned his flies and switched on the ball game. "I love you so much," Grady pleaded as she lay naked on the bed. "Why can you not love me?" Ah, what the hell, thought Clyde, and they were married in secret that afternoon.

Grady languished alone in the New York heatwave. She knew why she was so reluctant to tell her family about the wedding, but why could Clyde not tell his? They were such a sweet Jewish family and she felt so welcome. And why did Clyde spend so little time with her? How lucky she was to still have Peter as a friend, because otherwise she would never go out at all.

The apartment had been empty for days and Clyde was getting curious. "I believe she's visiting her sister in the Hamptons," the valet said.

"Why Grady," said Apple. "There's this man at the door. He says he's your husband. Tell me it's not true."